Let's Get Away From it All
by Dancing Through Daisies
Summary: "You can be the Hermione Granger to my Ron Weasley." "Is this your way of telling me my hair is outrageously huge and I'm nothing but a know-it-all?" "Nope. It's my way of saying you're my best friend and I love how you never shut up." / Follow the (mis)adventures of Patricia and Eddie as they tackle how to grow up without really doing so / Peddie oneshot series; K-T ratings
1. Let's Get Away From it All

**Title: **Let's Get Away From it All

**Genre(s): **humor, romance, friendship

**Rating: **K+

**Pairing: **Peddie

**A/N: **Hi everyone! I know that I need to do a lot of updating with some of my stories *cough* Young but Never Beautiful *cough* Behind Closed Doors *cough* However I couldn't wait to upload this one! I've been working on this for a long time - it was originally indented to be a oneshot (like most everything else I write lololol). As I continued to develop this, I hit a wall: either I had an idea that I really liked that somehow didn't seem to really fit with the original plot or I hated where it was ultimately going.

SO I came up with the idea of making the general idea/plot into a series of oneshots! :) This first chapter is the introduction: how Eddie and Patricia came to end up together after finishing school. Every chapter after this will revolve around that central idea, however it will be able to stand alone as a separate oneshot (unless otherwise stated). I will let everyone know the chapter name, genre, rating and whether or not it stands independently or follows a previous chapter at the beginning of every new chapter (just like how it is portrayed above). The future oneshots will be either rated K, K+, or T. I will not go any higher than T.

I am super excited to see where this goes! I've wanted to create a oneshot series for a long time now, especially for my OTP :)

Feel free to send in prompts as well! I'm open to new ideas. I'll try to respond to as many as I can as quickly as I can. Please do not be offended if I choose not to write a suggested prompt - it will most likely be due to if I find it inappropriate or if I'm just not feeling it :)

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own House of Anubis or the second quote by Amy Teegarden. The first quote underneath the title is mine. The quotes are just food for thought :) The title is a song by Frank Sinatra and the mentions of Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling.

Let's Get Away From it All

_Just because growing up is inevitable doesn't mean they can't find loopholes._

* * *

"_No matter where you are or where you grow up, you always go through the same awkward moments of being a teenager and growing up and trying to figure out who you are."_

_-Amy Teegarden_

* * *

Cabs littered the front lawn of Anubis House. Victor would have a fit once he saw just how badly they ruined the grass and petunia plants. He may even have a stroke from all the commotion occurring before it.

(Oh, wait a minute: Victor Rodenmaar no longer looks after this century old home…)

Friends who've known each other since the wee age of eleven grip far too tightly on to one another. They reminisce on the past, tears stinging the corner of their eyes while simultaneously smiling about what lies ahead. Graduation day came and passed much too rapidly—this was the first time the residents of Anubis would say good-bye and not see each other again come this Autumn…

Fabian sat with Mara on the front stoop, waiting for her parents to come before they officially parted ways. His father was already here, but Fabian had managed to convince him to take a walk around campus until Mara was safely with her mother and father. Willow clung to Alfie's arm. Their eyes gleamed with joy since they were the only two who would see each other in three months from now, only they'd be college freshmen once again, not seniors. As they looked at the solemn faces of the friends, they couldn't avoid the pang of melancholy that resided in their hearts. Jerome lifted Joy's suitcase into her father's car for her. Joy wiped a tear away from her cheek, trying to be strong; Jerome caught one she had missed, wiping away the glistening streaks already staining her pretty face. KT hugged Trudy goodbye, whispering _thank you, thank you, thank you _for all she had done over and over and over. No matter how many times she would utter the phrase, it would never be enough.

'College would be fun' was what the teens kept reminding themselves. They were off to new places to experience new ways of life and to discover who they truly were. It would be the time of their lives, but right now, it wasn't where any of them wanted to be. They wanted one more night in Anubis (minus the mysteries) to simply sit in the living room and talk, watch old Disney movies, and laugh about things they promised themselves they'd never ever forget. To just be with company, to be with friends, to be with the people who knew all the deepest secrets, all the inside jokes and whom they all shared their best moments together with. That's all they wanted.

By three o'clock that afternoon, they had all left with their respective families and others to somehow enjoy their holiday before they were expected to attend universities and learn how to become adults.

Trudy waved them all goodbye.

Now _that_ was simply not Eddie Miller and Patricia Williamson's style.

Whilst everyone had said their adieus and cried their eyes dry, they had roamed around campus together. They had said goodbyes to their friends yesterday night; neither were big fans of public display of emotions, whether it be from themselves or from others.

(That's what they told themselves. If they had gone today, they'd have turned to mush along with everyone else).

So here they were, sitting on the front steps of the Nefertiti Gardens: a place of retired beauty and of living mystique. Eddie held Patricia's hand against her will. She was never fond of hand-holding. Even as a little girl, she couldn't stand it when another person's skin turned sweaty and clammy against hers and hated the awful feeling of being held back by someone. Unless it was totally, completely, one hundred percent necessary and the reason was thoroughly explained, she wouldn't do it.

However Eddie loved the way her chipped nail polish looked against his sharp knuckles. Patricia rolled her eyes at the sappy way he was staring at their entwined fingers. It was comforting to him, having her hand locked with his.

They sat in comfortable silence, although their futures dangled over their heads, annoyingly tick, tick, ticking away a precious thing called time. They knew they'd have to go back to Anubis eventually. Patricia's parents promised to pick her up by four o'clock (well, they originally said two, but they were late with picking up Piper) and Eddie's father would come for him once everyone else had been safely placed with their guardians and parents (whenever that may be). Right now, they felt it was appropriate for them to not be anywhere near Anubis, the school or any faculty members. They weren't headed in the same direction their fellow peers were.

(They were the troublemakers of their class, after all).

After everything he had gone through during senior year of high school, dying and coming back to life at the top of the list, Mr. Sweet had agreed to Eddie taking a gap year before enrolling into a four-year university.

"I'm tired of wasting more of my life sitting behind a desk and listening to lectures I'll never use in the real world," he told his girlfriend, his free hand underneath his chin, deep in thought. He knew this was what he needed—what he wanted. He just hoped he wasn't disappointing his dad too much.

She gave their hands a squeeze.

(There were some circumstances where she didn't mind holding hands).

Patricia simply informed her parents that that was what she intended to do much to their furious objections. She needed a break from getting an education, she told them, but in all honesty, she just needed some down time from saving the world.

Three times.

"Just another reason for them to like Piper better than me." She commented, looking at the ground. It rolled off her tongue too easily that it hurt both her and Eddie's hearts.

He gave their hands a squeeze.

"Just another reason for me to like you better."

She peered at him through the corner of her blue eyes. Eddie had gone back to gazing at their hands, his free hand now tracing the spaces between their fingers.

Good thing her face was already red from the heat or Patricia would have run the risk of Eddie catching her blush.

* * *

Two weeks crept by and Mr. Sweet had just gotten done with telling his only son that if he wasn't going to attend some sort of school, then he needed to start looking for his own place if he was going to stay in Liverpool. Eddie hadn't wanted to go back to California for the summer. He was quite happy here with his dad; his mom understood that. Now though, it seemed like things were taking a new turn.

Eddie was lucky that his dad hadn't brought this topic up sooner. "Subtle" hints had been dropped (_"the time is right for buying a house now that the economy is looking up, huh Edison?") _but today was the first day they had openly discussed it. Honestly, Eddie hadn't thought too far ahead of what he was going to do with his year off. He currently had a job waiting tables at his and Patricia's favorite Chinese restaurant, so it wasn't like he was going to sit around all day long, playing video games and overeating until his stomach gave out. He had somewhat of a plan: to earn some cash and save up for his own car. His old one still resided in the states and he hated always having to bum a ride off of someone. From there on out, he didn't know what to aim for next.

Mr. Sweet was proud of his son for being employed, really he was, but earning money and spending it on whatever he wanted whenever he wanted? Mr. Sweet didn't think that was too responsible.

That was certainly not how it worked in the real world.

After that conversation came to a close, Eddie had gone to his bedroom. He flopped onto his bed and sighed. He didn't like lying there with his brain on overdrive, thinking about responsibilities and life. He had been texting his girlfriend for the past twenty minutes to help get his mind off things.

_He said if I got an apartment, I'd learn how to balance a checkbook better, learn how to juggle expenses and truly appreciate the things that I buy for myself. _

_Who uses a checkbook anymore?_

Eddie's lips curled upwards. He had been doing that a lot more since they had rekindled their relationship after Ammut was defeated.

_That's what I said! :) :) :) _

_Too many smiley faces, Miller. What are you, seven?_

_What are you Yacker, fifty-nine?_

_Fifty-nine? You went with the first number that popped into your head, didn't you?_

…_Maybe._

_Dork. Now, back to the conversation at bay. At least your dad is trying to help you, sort of. My parents are hardly speaking to me. _

_Still?_

_Yep. Ugh, I hate being in this house. It's just one big pot of awkward all the time. Every night at dinner, one of them will find a way to bring up how Piper's in New York, attending Julliard, and how I'm lying here on their couch, eating all my dad's favorite snacks and disappointing them. _

_But you're not doing that at all. You're always out looking for a job whenever I call or text you. I'm surprised you're even texting me back. Are you home now?_

_Yeah. A girl can only take so much rejection._

…_sorry._

_It's all right, I guess._

_YACKER! COME LIVE WITH ME! _

Patricia didn't respond. Eddie was now sitting straight up in bed, his phone almost touching the tip of his nose. He was so excited, so pumped about his idea that he desperately wanted Patricia to agree.

_Yacker? Are you there?_

No response.

_Okay, if you're really not there then you can read this later. If you are there and are just being a jerk and/or are too flabbergasted about my earlier message, read my plan anyways: Eddie Miller's dad wants him out of the house. Patricia Williamson wants to get out of her parent's house. The amazing Eddie Miller and the excellent boyfriend that he is, suggests he and his girlfriend rent an apartment together, their own place. That way Miller's father is happy, Miss Williamson is happy, and Eddie Miller himself is happy that he gets to live with and see his lovely girlfriend every day. It's a happily ever after in the making if you think about it, Yacker. _

Eddie's smile shot through the roof five minutes later.

…_You had me at "own place."_

_:) :) :) :) :) _

* * *

Eddie signed a one year lease on an apartment the following Wednesday. Mr. Sweet had found the apartment for Eddie. A one bedroom, one full bath, gently used apartment with a living room and combination kitchen and dining room. It was small, but reasonably sized for a teenager straight out of high school, he had thought.

However, Mr. Sweet wasn't informed that Patricia Williamson would be living there with his son. Eddie knew that his dad wouldn't be cool with that at all (especially with the one bedroom aspect) and he was pretty sure Patricia left out that vital piece of information when she told her parents she was moving out too (_certainly_ because of the one bedroom aspect).

Whoops.

"What's done is done," Patricia grunted, dropping a large and very heavy box onto the living room floor. A gust of dust flew into the air as the box collided with the hardwood floor, sending her into a fit of coughing. "This is 'gently used?'" She uttered in between coughs. "It looks like civilization hasn't stepped foot in here for years."

She turned towards their new couch (a housewarming gift from Sweetie) that sat underneath the living room window. Eddie was sitting there, excitedly digging into a few boxes and organizing which utensils and pieces of furniture would go where. He looked up at her, a crooked smile growing on his face as she continued to cough.

"It just needs a little love," he shrugged happily and a tad defensively. He was happy to be here in his own apartment with his girlfriend. Sure it was dusty and in need of a good maid service, but nothing could bring him down whatsoever. "Plus, it was the cheapest in the area. Please put aside your love for complaining and be happy."

"I am," she told him honestly, dusting her hands off on her jeans. She surveyed the space. "This feels odd, though: moving out of the house I've grown up in for eighteen years and coming to live here. It's like I'm starting all over."

"Or we're starting for the first time," Eddie stated wisely. Patricia crossed her arms playfully and raised an eyebrow.

"Nicely put, Shakespeare. Now come help me lift the dining table through the door."

;;

They finished the majority of unpacking the few belongings they owned around seven o'clock that evening. Unopened boxes still littered the floor and some pieces of furniture weren't completely assembled. However, Eddie and Patricia were content with how far they'd come. They decided not to push it.

It was officially the first night in their new place.

To celebrate, they ordered three pizzas and had a Harry Potter movie marathon.

"You can be the Hermione Granger to my Ron Weasley," Eddie muffled through a mouth full of pepperoni and cheese. His attention was glued to the screen, so he didn't hear or see his girlfriend's light scoff and eye roll.

"Is this your way of telling me my hair is outrageously huge and I'm nothing but a know-it-all?" Patricia eyed him warily, but there was a glimmer of humor dancing in her eyes as she spoke. Eddie turned away from the TV to face her, a smug but nevertheless giddy smile resting on his face.

"Nope. It's my way of saying you're my best friend and I love how you never shut up."

Contrary to that very true statement, Patricia didn't speak.

Her lips were a little too busy to do so.

(Eddie didn't mind one bit).

* * *

**A/N****: **After that long author's note in the beginning, you're all probably like "jeez, another one!?" lol :)

I do hope you all liked the beginning! :) This will focus on Patricia and Eddie's (mis)adventures together since the world is forcing them to grow up, even though they're not too sure just how to do that. Keep an eye out for more!


	2. Feng Shui

**Chapter Two: **Feng Shui

******Genre(s):** humor and romance

**Rating:** K+

**This can stand independently**

**A/N:** Hi everybody!

WOW! I am thrilled that y'all are so enthusiastic and excited for this oneshot series. Your reviews made my heart swell with happiness. Thank you all for making my day! I thought I'd update to say thank you as well :)

I hope you all enjoy! Don't forget to send in prompts if you've got a really good idea :)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own House of Anubis

* * *

"I don't think this is matching up correctly."

Eddie Miller sat cross-legged on the floor in his new bedroom. A giant box sat before him. He was supposed to be assembling his and Patricia's bed while she was unpacking more boxes of stuff in the living room. Large pieces of wood were jutting out of the box, while other pieces were incorrectly put together. What he had made certainly didn't come close to looking like a bed. It resembled more of a late 1900's pop art sculpture rather than a common household object. He placed a hand underneath his chin and continued to gaze at the objects in frustration, not even glancing up when his girlfriend came to stand in the doorway.

"I'd agree with you there," Patricia Williamson said with a smug smile. "I finished putting all the dishes away in the cabinets while you've made…that. Great accomplishment."

Eddie turned around to glare, but found it to be a little challenging. He was still massively thrilled at the fact that she had decided to come and live with him during their year off of school. They didn't think living together would be too difficult. They had been boarding at Anubis House together for two years; they knew how each other lived and what lifestyles they preferred. The mysteries put their relationship to the test multiple times and here they were: renting an apartment together at eighteen-years-old, straight out of high school. They made it this far. Even though her sarcasm dripped venomously off every word, he couldn't help but crack a teensy smile.

"Like you could do any better." Eddie teased. He turned himself back around and started to fiddle with some miscellaneous screws and bolts. Patricia raised an eyebrow. Was that what she thought it was? It sure sounded like it to her; she was very sure of it. She walked into her new bedroom, a light spring in her step, and plopped herself on the floor opposite Eddie.

"Is that a _challenge?_" She questioned, her eyebrows still lifted high and her head cocked to one side. Eddie looked up from the directions he was holding. He gave a dramatic sigh when he saw the competitive sparkle in her eyes—one of his favorite things about her.

"Must everything be a competition between us, Yacker?"

"I don't know, Slimeball. You tell me."

"Touché."

Patricia smiled victoriously. "That's what I thought." She reached over the box and swiped the instructions away from Eddie. She gave it a once over and shrugged.

"This doesn't look too hard." She commented, flipping over the paper. Eddie gave a loud scoff.

"Are you kidding me?" Eddie questioned incredulously. "The instructions are a mixture of English, Spanish, Chinese, and some other foreign language that I've never heard of! Plus, none of the pictures resemble any of the actual pieces. Who could possibly figure out how to build this bed?"

"Obviously not an American." Patricia joked, chuckling to herself. She looked up to see Eddie's flustered face. She softened a little at his determined and frustrated demeanor. "Give me an hour and I'll have it done."

"One hour?" He questioned skeptically. "Yacker, I've been sitting here for three hours, tying to decipher those multi-cultural instructions, and all I've managed to properly do is open the box."

"Like I said: you're American. I'm British." Patricia retorted with a wink. She rolled her shoulders confidently, very much like she's seen her boyfriend do. "I've got this."

"You're on, Williamson." Eddie sighed, not believing that she'd succeed in her given time frame. That fueled Patricia's fire; she would so prove him wrong. "What are the terms?"

"If I correctly assemble the bed in or under one hour…_you_ get to do all the rest of the unpacking while I lounge about, watch television and eat your tasty American snacks your mom sends you. If I lose, I'll unpack and let you have the couch to yourself at nights."

"So you hate on Americans, yet you'll still eat our food?"

"I'm a hypocrite and proud of it."

Once her terms sunk into his brain, he cringed. Even though they didn't have a lot of stuff to begin with, they had hardly unpacked anything. They'd been in the apartment for a week and they were _just now_ making their bed. They had opened the boxes that held what they thought to be most important. Their clothes, toiletries, television, microwave and refrigerator were all set up and organized in their designated rooms. Living off of that was fine, but they knew eventually they'd have to continue what they started.

The leather couch Sweetie gave them had been serving as their place of rest. It was a rather small couch but in all honestly, Eddie didn't mind sleeping there. Neither did Patricia, but she'd never say it out loud. She liked how Eddie would have to pull her close so they'd both fit and Eddie liked having her head rest right underneath his own when they slept.

However, Eddie was getting a little tired of waking up five times every night due to Patricia kicking and punching him. She said she was a very "vivid dreamer." He put a hand on his very bruised and damaged stomach as he thought about it. Patricia was also fed up with waking up every morning with half her body hanging off the edge of the couch. Eddie argued that he needed to "spread out" to help him sleep.

Eddie really wanted that bed to be set up and he very much wanted to prove Patricia wrong.

"Deal."

They shook on it. Eddie then lifted himself off the ground to go and raid the fridge for a snack. He got to the door when a loud scraping sound stopped him. Patricia had slid the box over to the other end of the room.

"Why'd you move the box?" Eddie asked curiously.

"So I can assemble the bed by this wall instead." Patricia said. She started to gather stray pieces of wood, or really take apart Eddie's unorthodox bedframe, into her arms.

"What's wrong with where I originally had it?" He asked her. He was truly interested to see if his girlfriend would be able to piece this dreadful thing together. So far, he wasn't understanding her technique.

"If you'd done it your way, the bed would be across from the door," Patricia said, kneeling down to put the bed pieces where she wanted them. "I want the bed by this wall so it's beside the door."

"But that's not proper Feng Shui!"

"…Feng Shui?" Patricia's face contorted into one of mass confusion and a hint of worry. She bit her lip to refrain from laughing, partially because of Eddie's "serious face" (which was totally hilarious) and partially from the word itself. _Feng Shui._ The name was like a comedy act, she thought.

"Yes, Feng Shui!" Eddie said with an avid nod of his head. He walked over to the wall across from where Patricia stood. "You can't put the bed over by the door," he gestured to her side of the room. "The room's energy wouldn't be calm over there. It has to flow from the door into the room. The energy can't do that with the bed practically on top of it. Now if it were across from it, _over here_," he waved his hands above his head and touched his wall, the good wall, "the energy of the apartment would be peaceful and would cause good vibes for us both."

Patricia's whole bottom lip was in her mouth as she desperately fought back laughter. Eddie saw her failing attempt at trying to remain collected and sighed.

"Go ahead and laugh—"

"Oh thank you so much!" Patricia exclaimed wildly. She leaned back onto the wall and slowly started to slide down. Her giggles escalated into laughter, which soon evolved into full on hysterics. Her arms were wrapped around her aching stomach and tears of joy appeared in the corner of her eyes. Awe man, did she feel so much better now! Though Eddie's feelings were just a tiny bit crushed, he let her continue to laugh.

He liked the way it sounded far too much.

Even when it was directed at him.

(That was when she laughed the loudest).

"Okay Yacker, haha. Laugh it up," Eddie said sarcastically, although he was quite sure Patricia hadn't heard him. "Build the bed wherever you want, but don't come crawling to me when you can't sleep at night due to the corrupted energy you created."

"Can you hear yourself right now?" Patricia finally choked out. Her laughter eased up to the point where her brain could function and produce words instead of hilarious noises. "You honestly believe in all that mumbo jumbo?"

"Yes!" Eddie stated instantly. "Why else would people believe in it if it weren't a practiced and credible philosophy?"

"I'm going to limit the amount of time that you spend with Willow. She has obviously had too much of an affect on you."

Eddie couldn't help but chuckle along with her by that point. Her laugh was just so infectious, so loud, and so darn funny. He liked seeing her behave so loose and relaxed like this. Not everyone was fortunate enough to be around Patricia Williamson when she was like this, so Eddie considered himself lucky.

Eddie and Patricia resided like that for a few minutes, completely forgetting about their unassembled bed, unfinished bedroom, and their bet.

Well, Eddie had forgotten. Patricia never let a bet slip out of her mind, even after she'd won.

"Alright Weasel, stop making me laugh with your absurd theories and such. I've got a bet to win."

Eddie smiled and looked down at his watch. "Okay. It's just now one o'clock. I'll set the kitchen timer to go off at two." He directed his attention back to Patricia and saluted her. "Good luck, Miss. Williamson. Hope you're ready to go through all those boxes."

"We'll see, Mr. Miller. We'll see."

Eddie left her sorting through the box, pulling out pieces he hadn't even seen printed on the instructions. He chuckled to himself. There was no way she'd be able to do it in that short of a time. Eddie went to get some of his American cookies from the cabinet above the fridge (which was good because Patricia couldn't reach that high) and went to sit on the couch.

This would be the best hour of his life.

;;

"I'm done!"

Eddie choked on a cookie. What? That didn't feel long at all. He twisted his head towards the kitchen to look at the clock on the microwave.

1:27.

_1:27?!_

It hadn't even been half an hour and Patricia was done? Eddie shot up from his spot, cookies still in hand. She must be pulling his leg—there was no way, simply _no way. _

Oh there was a way. And Patricia had figured out that way.

There was their bed: fully assembled-and correctly-assembled. She had even covered the mattress with sheets and a thick white duvet. It looked just like the picture on the box it had come in.

The best thing about it was that she placed it _across_ from the door…where Eddie had wanted it.

Eddie didn't know whether to be stunned and impressed that she had amazing and quick construction skills or whether to feel touched that she put the bed where the energy would flow best, just for him.

(He went with both).

"What…how…what did you…how did you…you completed the whole thing in twenty seven minutes—"

"While it took you three hours to open the box." Patricia finished for him. Her smirk was through the roof. Ah, the sweet satisfaction of winning a bet. _Priceless_.

"You respect the Feng Shui," he said after a minute of silence. He had a large, dopey smile plastered on his face. "I think I may cry. Or hug you. Or both."

"Either way, I still won the bet." Patricia patted his shoulder, a giant smirk glaring up at him. "Enjoy all those boxes, Eddie. I'd like them all unpacked and everything organized by this Friday."

And with that, she swiped the cookies from Eddie's hand and catapulted herself onto their new bed. Eddie watched as she settled herself into the comfy pillows and blankets while enjoying his cookies one by one. He playfully rolled his eyes and turned to walk out of the room to start on the boxes that littered the living room floor.

So maybe living together would be a little more difficult than either of them had anticipated.

But nevertheless fun.

"I'll get you next time, Yacker."

"We'll see about that, Weasel."

;;

Eddie and Patricia were so looking forward to their new, assembled, comfy bed. Finally, they'd have a good night's sleep! The couch was okay and it totally beat sleeping on the floor, however now that the bed was put together, Patricia could "vividly dream" and Eddie could "spread out" as much as they wanted now that they had the space to do so.

Or that was what they had thought.

It was one in the morning when Eddie was jolted awake. He instantly clutched his stomach, eyes tearing up in pain, and groaned loudly just like he had in the previous nights. Now wide awake, he peered open his blurry eyes to see Patricia recoil her clenched fist back to her chest. Her eyelids were fluttering with "vivid" dreams. She was also taking up half of his side of the bed; Eddie noticed he had one arm around her waist, holding her close. Eddie smirked to himself: Patricia had assembled this queen size bed, giving them both more than enough room to rest, yet they still slept like how they had when on the couch.

Patricia began to stir. She inhaled deeply through her nose and went to rub her eyes.

"You have one heck of a right hook," Eddie said through a small moan. Patricia plummeted her hand back onto the mattress and opened one eye.

"Shut up. I'm sleepy." She muffled onto her pillow. She closed her eye and nuzzled into her pillow.

"Must be because the good energy is lulling you to sleep." Eddie said in a sing song voice.

Patricia gave an exasperated huff and muttered something sounding like "stupid Feng Shui." She rolled onto her right side, facing away from him. Eddie gave a sleepy shrug; he knew he was in fact, very, very correct. He yawned (which made his stomach flip in pain). The Feng Shui was working on him as well. He closed his eyes, pulled Patricia back towards him, and rested his head on top of hers. Patricia fell asleep with a smile on her face.

They slept great that night.

* * *

**A/N:** Aw, who doesn't love an overly friendly, yet very competitive Peddie competition? I love how they playfully compete and tease each other! One of my favorite Peddie moments is in fact their American Football challenge. It was so presh ;)

Keep an eye out for chapter three! :)


	3. Mornings

**Chapter Three:** Mornings

**Genre(s):** romance and humor

**Rating:** K

**This can stand independently**

**A/N:** Hello everyone! I am sorry for being slow with updating. I'm currently back in school, so updates will probably be a little less infrequent/slower due to all my school work and reading. I will stick with this story and find time to write whenever I can! I promise you all that :)

You are all so incredible. This is my first story to reach 20 reviews! I am so thankful and honored. All your reviews make me so happy - thank you, thank you, thank you for being amazing readers and reviewers! I am so happy to make you all feel joyful with this story :)

Enjoy Peddie fluff!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own House of Anubis

* * *

Eddie Miller loved mornings.

His first reason was quite predictable: pancakes. The world's most fantastic breakfast dish always put a smile on Eddie's face. He could smell syrup a mile away and loved to watch the raw batter bake to a crisp golden brown in the frying pan. Flapjacks were a good way to persuade Eddie out of his bed to join civilization in the mornings. It worked every time. Let's not even get into how much he enjoyed _eating _the pancakes…

His second reason for adoring mornings was the serenity that tagged along with it. To the naked eye, most would perceive Eddie to be a rather rambunctious, rebellious, wise-cracking teenager constantly surrounded by friends and always on the go. He was a guy that never had a moment of peace in his life, or wanted one. All those things were, in fact, utterly true. His days at Anubis prove that.

Except for the mornings. Eddie had always found himself to be an early riser. He wasn't fond of this habit, not one bit actually. He loved sleeping, being fully rested enough to get up and go attack the day. But when the clock struck six am and the sun barely peeked over the horizon, Eddie (begrudgingly) rose along with the morning sun. Sleeping in was a foreign concept to him.

Back when he lived in the states, when his mother would still be snoring the early hours of the morning away, Eddie would tip-toe down the stairs and wander out onto his house's back porch to settle himself into the porch swing. He didn't have much else to do: Eddie had never been able to just fall back asleep. Once he was awake, there was no going back. It was time to get up and do something. If it were a school day, he'd just have to get ready for school (ugh) and if it were a weekend, he'd have to wait for his friends to awaken before beginning his hectic day. There was always time to kill when mornings came.

Eddie liked sitting there: not thinking, hardly blinking and breathing deeply. It only lasted around an hour or so and then life would call him back into the world of reality. It was so unlike himself maybe that was what intrigued him about his little routine, or maybe it all came down to him just liking it. He absolutely hated waking up early, but once he found his way outside to enjoy the crisp, cool air that stung his skin, smelling the dewy grass and listening to utter silence, he was all right. Eddie preferred living his life in the fast lane, but he'd never trade in his morning sessions of harmony.

His third reason for loving mornings was newly acquired, but by far his favorite.

Waking up every morning beside Patricia Williamson made Eddie Miller incredibly joyful. She never woke up when he did; in fact, she never stirred before ten o'clock. She didn't know that Eddie was an early riser and he hoped she wouldn't find out any time soon. He liked looking at her when she slept and as creepy as that sounded to him, he really didn't and couldn't give a damn.

They hadn't been in the apartment for too long, but every day since they (cough Patricia cough) assembled their bed, Eddie had woken up to see his girlfriend sleeping in a new position. Patricia was a deep sleeper. Nothing could wake her up. She never felt herself twist and turn, jostle and roll over in the middle of the night. Unfortunately for Eddie he could; his stomach has the bruises to prove it.

His mornings were quite hilarious. He much preferred spending the early mornings like this with her. Eddie loved waking up to find Patricia either hanging off the bed, snoring with an arm slung over her face, drooling onto her pillow, or slowly rolling off the bed onto the floor.

Yep. Patricia was _that_ deep of a sleeper.

Eddie would silently laugh, snicker and chuckle, hands covering his mouth, utterly determined not to wake her up (though no one could wake the beast, he thought). Waking up early, it seemed, had its perks.

This morning was different though.

Instinctively, Eddie lethargically began to regain consciousness when the clock on his bedside table flashed six am. He inhaled sharply and sluggishly raised his right

hand to rub his eyes open.

His hand, however, wouldn't move.

"Whaa?" Eddie mumbled drowsiness still laced within his voice. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes remained closed. Why couldn't he lift his hand? He tried again, but it wouldn't budge. Eddie peered out through narrowed, tired eyes but to no avail; his eyesight was still blurry with dreams. Inhaling once more, Eddie forced himself to regain full consciousness and after a few more yawns, he fluttered his eyes wide open.

Eddie lay on his right side. His right arm was straight out on the mattress, palm up. Patricia continued to sleep soundly on her side of the bed, facing away from Eddie. Her left arm was thrown back over her side and her hand rested on top of Eddie's.

He didn't laugh. He didn't snicker. He didn't chuckle like previous mornings.

Eddie simply adjusted his hand to where his fingers slid inside the spaces between hers.

(They fit so well there).

Mornings usually were composed of the same routine for the two teens: Eddie would wake up at six, laugh at his comedic 'sleeping beauty' of a girlfriend, lounge about and hang around the apartment until Patricia woke up and together pursue another chaotic day in the ever so fast-paced lives of Eddie Miller and Patricia Williamson.

Eddie rubbed his thumb against the back of Patricia's hand. He had no intentions of moving. Patricia wasn't fond of holding hands yet Eddie was practically addicted to the feeling of her hand in his. He was going to savor this moment for as long as time would give him. He listened to the rhythmic sound of her soft, subtle breathing. He always looked forward to mornings because Patricia, without even realizing so, would cause Eddie to laugh in a way that made his stomach hurt and tears rise to the brim of his eyes. Only she could do that to him. She made him feel absolutely awake and aware and alive.

But not today.

She put a warm smile on his face as he fell back asleep.

Eddie Miller really loved mornings.

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**A/N:** I love sleeping Peddie. They are too cute! I do hope you all liked this chapter. Be on the look out for chapter four! Feel free to send in prompts. They can be one word or a paragraph - I'm open to new ideas :)

Have a good rest of the week! :)


	4. Eggs

**Chapter Four: **Eggs

**Genre(s):** humor, romance, hurt and comfort

**Rating: **T

**This can stand independently.**

**A/N:** Hello everybody! I hope everyone is having a lovely September, almost October!) Where has 2014 gone?

I missed HoA Oneshot day! :( I was really disappointed, so let's just pretend I published this on Sept. 20th, okay? :) But maybe this gives me the excuse to write another oneshot...

Enjoy!

* * *

"_Ouch!"_

Patricia Williamson clutched her newly burnt hand to her chest. She hadn't realized how hot she had made the stove—the entire frying pan, handle and all, was scorching hot. Maybe that was why the eggs were cooking quicker than she expected…

It was 2:25 am and Patricia was making eggs. _Eggs_. She didn't even like eggs. She much preferred an ice cold bowl of cereal when she craved breakfast foods at random times, needed a late night snack or desired a round of food therapy. Since the refrigerator was empty of milk and the cabinets vacant of cereal (and most other edible things), and since she was _so_ famished, Patricia succumbed to eggs.

Yuck.

Her left hand now blistered pink. She leaned over the stove and lowered the temperature with her good hand and then crossed the room to run her hand under cold water.

She put her right elbow on the counter and yawned before resting her chin on her palm. Patricia was not having a great night or a good day for that matter. She had woken up extra early (nine thirty am was Patricia's definition of "extra early") to travel around town in search for a job. It had been her main objective ever since she graduated: every day she had gone out and looked, asked and applied at what ever business advertised a wanted sign in the front window or proposed an ad in the paper.

Every day just lead to more rejection.

"_Someone applied first: first come, first served." "You unfortunately do not have the requirements for the position we are looking to fill." "We are looking for someone older." "We'll call you if another position opens."_

Patricia, at this point, was waiting on twenty-one calls.

She sighed. She turned off the sink faucet and wiped her painful hand on a towel. Not a lot of things bothered Patricia, but money surely seemed like a giant problem in her mind. Patricia had always been rather frugal with her money and started saving at a young age. She was paying half the rent from what she possessed in her savings account but that was rapidly depleting. Really all she had now was money for rent, which meant Eddie had to buy whatever else they needed.

And they needed food.

They always needed food.

They went through it like nobody's business.

Patricia had always been independent: a stubborn spirit that did whatever she wanted simply because she could or wanted to. Now she had to rely on Eddie to get whatever they needed and it bothered her to no end that she couldn't do it herself. Eddie was understanding about it and he didn't mind doing extra, which she appreciated, but hated at the same time. She felt pathetic which was something Patricia Williamson had never felt like before.

Patricia Anne Williamson was n_ot_ pathetic.

So here she was at 2:30 am, sleepily leaning against the rim of the sink while pressing her scorched hand into a scratchy towel, staring at a frying pan containing burnt eggs.

Burnt. Eggs.

Patricia stomped over to take the frying pan off the stove and dump the black, crusty eggs into the trashcan. She turned back around to face the stove, jumping when she suddenly saw her boyfriend standing in the middle of the kitchen, hair ruffled and clothed in pajamas.

"Give me a heart attack, why don't you?" She scolded, clutching her chest with her bad hand. Eddie gave a tired yawn in response.

"Whaa you doin?" He mumbled, his eyes half shut. Patricia felt the urge to smile at how cute he looked when he was sleepy but her annoyance was too strong to do so.

"What does it look like?" She questioned, lifting the frying pan for emphasis. She tried to scoot around him. Curse how small this kitchen was! There truly only was room for one person to cook, but somehow they made it work. Or at least Eddie said that: he enjoyed being rather close to his girlfriend…

"More like 'what does it smell like?'" Eddie smugly smiled. He was slowly becoming more alert. He moved to his left to block her way around him. "The aroma of eggs gone wrong woke me up."

Patricia moved to her right and so did Eddie. Patricia shifted her weight to one foot and cocked her head to the right. "Are we really doing this now?"

"I dunno," Eddie shrugged happily, "you tell me."

Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

"You do realize I can whack you with this pan at any moment."

"Yes. Yes I do. But I know that you wouldn't—_OUCH!_"

Patricia recoiled the pan from where it had collided with Eddie's arm. She blew on the top of it, feeling very much like the princess with the really long hair and abnormally big eyes.

"Shouldn't have said that."

Eddie rubbed his sore muscles whilst allowing Patricia to move around him to get to the stove. He thought it wise to let her win when she held a frying pan/possible weapon in her hands. He went to lean against the rim of the kitchen sink opposite her. Now Eddie was very much awake.

"Why're you in a such a sour mood?"

Patricia had her back to him. "I'm not." She began to crack more eggs into a bowl. Well, more like slamming them against the side of the bowl until they exploded, shell and all, into the bottom of it. Eddie felt bad for those poor little eggs.

"Seems like it," he said in a sing-song tune. He heard her give a huff and he smiled wide. Of course he found Patricia attractive—there were too many reasons why in fact—but there was something utterly stunning about her when she was upset. Most people avoid her when she was like this; they knew better. Not Eddie. She was a challenge, a thousand enigmas he wanted to constantly find answers to. He liked that she never gave a damn about anything and how she never failed to let people know it. But when she did happen to give a damn during these rare occasions, she also made the habit of letting people know without trying to do so. She always went to the ends of the earth to deny how she felt so she wouldn't have to talk about it and that just made Eddie want to travel there with her.

"I'm just tired. And hungry." She muttered behind clenched teeth. She began to whisk the eggs together. She turned to face him.

"And frustrated." Eddie added, wiping the smile off his face before she could see it.

She glared up at him before turning around again to pour the very crackly and lumpy eggs into the frying pan. Eddie watched her move, noticing she was only using her right hand.

"Are your hands okay?" He asked curiously, leaning forward to get a better look.

"Very perceptive." Patricia taunted with a bittersweet smirk. She let the eggs begin to simmer. "I burnt my left hand when I grabbed the handle. It doesn't hurt anymore though. Just turned my hand pink. _Ugh_."

She leaned against the countertop, inspecting her hand. Eddie barely took half a step across the kitchen to meet her (such a small kitchen that he very much enjoyed). He brought her hand away from her face. Instinctively, he began to massage it. Slow, gentle, sweet—just like he had done at the Masquerade Ball, flooding memories of _patronizing Americans_ and _whiny accents_ and _yacker and weasel_ into their minds.

A tiny smile slipped onto Patricia's face, just like it had so long ago.

(Just like when she had decided she could possibly have a crush on the new American boy).

A few minutes passed. All that could be heard was the sizzling of the eggs on the stove, long forgotten by now. Patricia watched Eddie, watched him take a small step closer to her, watche him lift her hand up to his lips and kiss her pink palm ever so lightly. Her teeny smile grew a little more but she didn't care.

(Neither did Eddie).

"_Better?"_ He asked softly, finally looking her in the eyes again.

(Blue then, blue now, blue as ever).

He still held her hand.

She smirked.

"_A little bit."_

Patricia cupped the back of his neck and kissed him like she once did when she was merely sixteen-years-old. Eddie slipped his fingers between hers and wrapped his other arms around her waist.

Sometimes a beautiful memory, a trip to the past, is the best remedy for a troubling day, a difficult present and looming future.

She broke the kiss a few minutes later. That little smile had evolved into a full, bright, lovely one that Eddie only seemed to bring out in her. It felt good to smile—her annoyed mood was vanishing.

Eddie still held on to her. "I know why you're upset," he said softly, leaning his forehead against hers. She averted her eyes away from him. He pecked a quick kiss on her lips. "I don't know what to say. I'm not good with that stuff and I know you definitely aren't either." She perked up at that, glaring at him. He chuckled low.

"But…I guess we'll figure it out. I mean we always do, don't we?"

His lips were on hers before she got to answer. They started off short and sweet, feeling as though this was exactly where they belonged. Patricia's arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. Eddie cupped the side of her face and his other hand found its way to her hip. He gently pushed her further back against the kitchen counter, trying to close every inch of space between them.

(Now would be a time when Patricia appreciated the small kitchen).

Her hands slipped into his blonde locks, ruffling it more so than his original bedhead. Eddie broke their kisses and moved to leave a trail of long, lingering kisses down her neck, stopping at a spot he knew a little too well. Patricia let a small moan escape her lips and he couldn't stop his heart from racing a little faster.

"I hate you," she loosely determined. She hit his arm in the exact spot where her frying pan had collided. He gave a slight wince and she found herself snickering. "You're such a pansy."

Eddie lifted his head to meet hers, a playful gleam dancing in his eyes. "You think you're funny."

"Oh I know I am." She retaliated, crushing her lips back onto his. She let his hands travel a little further down her side. He rubbed her thigh; she wrapped it around his leg, giving Eddie the chance to lift her onto the kitchen counter. She wrapped her arms back around his neck, keeping him close to hr. She fiddled with the collar of his shirt as he continued to rub her thighs.

Patricia finally pulled away from him, she and Eddie desperately needing to take a deep breath. She watched him smile way too large. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she smoothed his hair back, her fingers gliding through his messy dirty blonde locks.

"So," Eddie broke their not-so-silent silence, still just a tad bit breathless, "can we do this every night?"

Patricia scoffed, rolling her wide blue eyes. "You wish, Miller."

"Can't blame a guy for trying."

She scoffed again, although Eddie thought it sounded a lot more like her laughter. He leaned up to kiss her again because he just really loves to kiss her. It's that simple. He loved to kiss the girl who once hadn't ever had her first kiss…until she met him. There's something truly special about getting your first kiss—something that Eddie didn't think anyone, not even the ever so wise Fabian Rutter or Mara Jaffray, could figure out. He knew and accepted that he wouldn't ever get over the fact that he was her first kiss. Patricia was too amazing to describe—how could he have been the first guy to notice? However he also wouldn't ever get over the immense satisfaction he has and forever will hold that he was _indeed_ her first kiss. It makes him wish he had waited to experience his first with her as well.

But he was kissing her right here, right now, eighteen-years-old in their own apartment, one year and a half after their first kiss.

Somehow he thinks he got the better end of the deal.

Their lips and thoughts were suddenly pulled away from each other by the smoke alarm. It was blaring throughout the otherwise silent apartment. Confusion overwhelmed them. Why did it go off? Nothing would have made it—

Their eyes widened in realization. They whipped their heads to look at the frying pan that still sat on the aflame stove.

The eggs inside of it were not burnt.

The eggs were burning.

The eggs were on fire.

"_FIRE!" _

Eddie slid Patricia off the kitchen counter top so her pajamas wouldn't catch on fire. They flattened themselves against the counter across from the stove, staring wide-eyed at the slowly growing flames.

"What do we do?!" Eddie shouted, looking at Patricia. She looked just as lost.

"Stop drop and roll?"

"That's for when you're on fire!"

"So why are you asking me then?"

"Don't argue with me now, woman!"

"_Woman?!" _

The fire stretched and became more furious…it grew to where it caught the hand towels that lay on the microwave rack above, engulfing them in flames.

"_AH!" _

"Okay," Patricia put her foot down, "there should be a fire extinguisher in one of these cabinets. You look for it while I spray the fire with the water faucet."

"Why do I get the hard job?"

"Get a move on, man!"

"…I see what you did there!" Eddie shouted as he bent down, throwing open cabinet doors. Patricia leaned over him to grab the faucet and turn on the waterspout. She almost tripped over him, her hair swinging dangerously near the licking flames.

"Damn this small kitchen!" Patricia cursed, squirting water at the pan. It started to diminish.

"You weren't thinking that earlier…" Eddie exclaimed, finally opening the cabinet that held the shiny red tin he needed. "Found it!"

Eddie went over to the frying pan. He aimed the nozzle at the stove and soon enough, white foam emerged and the fire was soon put out.

They finally allowed themselves to take a breath.

Eddie went over to inspect the damage: there was no sign of eggs remaining in the pan and they were now in need of new hand towels. He turned to look at Patricia.

She dropped her hands to her side and shook her head in amazement.

"I really hate eggs."

Eddie's lip started to quiver and he was in an uproar of laughter in a matter of seconds. All Patricia at that point could do was join in. Eddie grabbed a hold of her arm and pulled her close, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

Well, Patricia certainly could not remember why she had started to make eggs in the first place.

But maybe Eddie was right.

Maybe they could have nights like this more often.

(Minus spontaneous fires. And eggs. Especially eggs).

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**A/N:** Oh Peddie: their lives are not normal :D I'm not sure about y'all, but I was in need for a Peddie make out :P I hope you all liked it! Feel free to leave a prompt in a review or let me know what you thought :) Stay on the lookout for more chappys! :) Have a wonderful day.


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